Everything You're Doing is Wrong
by Cap'n Jackie Sparrow
Summary: Get a taste of what has happened to Sweeney after the Epiphany. Review please!


Everything That You're Doing Is Wrong

Sweeney's swiped the straight razor cleanly through the young man's neck. He quickly jumped out of the way as the blood sprayed from the wound. Pushing the lever on the barber chair, it tilted back, opened a trap door, and the body slid inside the shoot to Mrs. Lovett's meat storage. It was all habit now, the murdering. Ever since he had the epiphany, the dispatching of the feculent vermin was becoming easier and easier.

He wiped the blood off of his straight razor with a handkerchief and tossed the cloth into the waste basket. He was bored and started fiddling with a pen and paper. In his boredom he wrote, "Judge Turpin."  
"Why'd you write his name?"  
"I don't know," Sweeney said.  
"Maybe he wanted you to."  
"Why would he want me to write his name? He doesn't even know me, well this Me."

"Maybe he wants you to..."  
"Maybe he wants me to what?" Sweeney asked, turning to see himself fifteen years younger.  
"To get confused," Benjamin replied.  
"I'm already confused," Sweeney said, "Why am I seeing you this doesn't make any sense."  
"You wanna hear something that does make sense?" Benjamin asked, "Go to the police. Go to them right this second and tell them to lock you up before you kill anybody else."  
"What, no?" Sweeney growled.

"Listen to me, because this is how it happens," Benjamin said calmly.  
"Shut up," Sweeney yelled.  
"There is no Sweeney Todd." Benjamin stated.  
"Shut up!"Sweeney hollered.  
"You made him up so you could get revenge,"  
"Raaah," Sweeney growled.  
"You are Benjamin Barker," Benjamin said.  
"Rah rah," Sweeney barked.  
"Listen to me, not to him," Benjamin commanded.  
"Leave me alone," Sweeney screamed.

He whipped out his straight razor and sliced at Benjamin, but he was gone.  
"But you are alone," Benjamin's voice echoed throughout the room. Sweeney backed up and flicked his straight razor closed. He reclined in his barber chair and sighed. He then heard a voice.

"What you're doing is wrong," it whispered. Sweeney's eyes widened in alarm, he glanced around, but saw nothing, so dismissed the thought.  
"Everything you're doing is wrong," a voice whispered again. Sweeney sat up straight now. He turned his head and examined the room.

"Everything is all wrong," the voice whispered. Sweeney leapt up from his chair.  
"You're not handling this,"  
"What you're doing is wrong,"  
"What you're doing is wrong,"  
"You have no idea what you're doing,"  
"Doing,"  
"You've held on for fifteen years,"  
"What you're doing is wrong,"  
"For fifteen years,"  
"Sisters run from the windows,"  
"You didn't even talk,"  
"And the school, you stole the trophy,"  
Sweeney looked behind mirrors, underneath chairs, in the trunk, but there was no one.

He started to back up slowly.  
"What'd I tell you?"  
"Everything you're doing is wrong."  
"Drawing the straight razor."  
"Getting Judge Turpin."  
"Could be a witness."  
"You might get caught."  
"Beedle didn't say anything."  
"Woman was stupid."  
"What was she talking about."  
"I'm starting to believe,"  
"Dark down inside,"  
"Dark down inside,"  
"Everything,"  
"He was right,"  
"Dark,"  
"I'm starting to believe deep down he was right."  
"Everything, that you're doing, is wrong."

Sweeney grabbed his hair and his eyes widened.  
"What is happening to me?" he asked.  
"Oh I think you know," a more distinct voice said. Sweeney spun around to see another him in the corner, except he looked like he did present day.  
"You don't exist," Sweeney said.  
"Me, I exist," it replied, "I exist because, you thought me up, gave me my name. When you were in Australia, you decided to turn yourself into me. I'm a part of you." Sweeney gulped.  
"So are we finished up yet?" it asked, "What's the real reason I've come?"

"To kill the judge," Sweeney replied.  
"That's right," the thing said, "And how do you think we oughtta do that?"  
It handed him a quill pen and paper. Sweeney smiled. He went over to the chair and started writing...


End file.
